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2.18.2013

Sundays are for...

united statesian sundays used to be my arch nemesis. i loathed them! they disgusted me! cough gag! it always seemed as though there was so much to do and never enough time to do it - roll out of bed in time for the latest church service, indulge in an ever-so-scrumptious sunday brunch, get sucked into at least a two hour nap, and then it's that awkward time where dinner is in 50 minutes so it's not worth getting too elbows-deep in homework? eat and return from dinner, and oh! desperate housewives is on at 8! and suddenly it's 9 and you have a week's worth of homework to catch up on...

...yaddy-yadda and ew! the predictability of united statesian sundays is just atrocious.

wouldn't you agree?

however...

yucatecan sundays and i, you see.. now that's a different story. we're really hittin' things off. sparks are flying, i'm on cloud nine, and after a little schmoozing and woo-sing they're quickly becoming my favorite of the weekdays. because i am the type that plays favorites!

sundays in merida are much more calm and relaxed. the roads are at their quietest with hardly any traffic (which also means a minimal number of men honking and hooting as they drive by - bonus!), stores don't open until the afternoon, if they open at all, and since i have an extra day to my weekend (oh friday, you're pretty cool too) it's easier to get things done beforehand so that saturday evening and sunday can be mine, all mine!

and on this past sunday, it was exactly so. it was peaceful, breezy, and loaded with nothing but time to do the things that sundays are for.

so what's that? you wonder. and then i tell you.

sundays are for...

... wandering the streets of merida, taking the scenic routes on the way to and fro your desired location(s).

... getting groceries of the snacky type -- animal crackers, granola cookies, nutella, and the like. and then

not being able to resist the cookies 'n cream hershey's bar calling out to you in the check out line.

... stopping at mcdonald's to treat yourself to a mocha frappe (and you say stopping like you just happened
to come across it when really it was your reasoning for being in that area all along) since you'd been so
good all week at ignoring starbucks and its nasty temptations.

... discovering that this mcdonald's isn't a mccafe! oh the outrage! pure fury! so you settle with a quarter
pounder. and then blame the fact that they super-sized your meal on the other fact that you couldn't
understand them while ordering and resorted to head nods and "si!"s, when really you're internally jumping
for joy that they goofed up.

... realizing that maybe coca cola really is as cool as everyone makes it sound? and with each sip of that 32